I love this poem by Walt Whitman

Miracles
by Walt Whitman

Why, who makes much of a miracle?
As to me I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of
   the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night
   with any one I love,
Or sit at table at dinner with the rest,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer
   forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so
   quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring;
These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,
The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.

To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with
   the same,
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—
   the ships with men in them,
What stranger miracles are there?

Haiku - who knew?

I got to attend the most enlightening workshop last Sunday, June 5, on a poetry form I've never considered as a "true" form (ever since being subjected to "learning" it in high school, meaning that I was taught several urban myths about it that were completely incorrect and misguiding). What poetry form could that be, you may ask? Haiku!

Yes! You read it right - haiku! The reason I never gave it notice before? When I was "taught" haiku in high school English class, we were told the form of specific syllables for each of the three lines had to be 5/7/5. Wrong! Complete myth based on a lack of understanding about Japanese language and how a form like this one translates into English. The stressing of the ever-and-all-importance of syllables caused me to feel like this form was just another stilted, rigid form. But here's the deal. In Japanese, syllables are inconsequential. It's the sounds within each word that matter. And the Japanese hear language sounds quite differently than we English-speaking folks do. So, when we write haiku in English, we must throw away that silly rule of 5/7/5 syllable count. It has absolutely nothing to do with haiku. It never did. What I learned in that workshop was that haiku is a tremendously huge poetry expression held inside a very, very small package. The spirit of the haiku is more important than the form.  Revelation! That's what poetry is all about, in any form, including free verse. Ah ha!

The workshop was led by Michael Dylan Welch, the vice-president of the Haiku Society of America and sponsored by a local chapter, hosted by haiku poet An'ya. Michael also touched very briefly on the related Japanese poetry forms of senryu, tanka, and renga (which are also very fascinating forms that I want to continue to study and learn more on).

Anyway, for those who have been misled by well-meaning but misguided high school teachers, please check out the Haiku Society of America website: http://www.hsa-haiku.org/ and let your walls be shattered about haiku. The purpose of this very short form (at least as I understand it right now) is to zero in on the specific in order to reveal the universal. Well, that's poetry in any language or form! By abstaining from any author subjective opinion, remaining (as much as possible) objective, and only observing any given thing/event/person etc., the poem finds the universal.

There's so much to learn about haiku and its related forms! I understand that I know truly nothing right now but, nevertheless, I feel I've stepped onto a whole new path of expression that is both the exploring of new literary lands and, yet, immediately placing me into that new land, too. It's like you just start walking and you become aware of how you're already there because "there" and "here" are actually one and the same. You're just walking the path to get "here" a little more fully with each step. OK, this is really a ramble, now, and that's what I tend to do and that's why this form is so good for me to practice. Less talk. More just being present. Good focus.

Here's a haiku by Michael Dylan Welch:

the black elder
shakes its shadow loose...
early snowfall

Here's a few haiku I wrote during and after the workshop: 

lilac exhales sweetness 

into the park - 

finches chorus 

the robin's prize: 

seed, blossom, tight in her beak - 

clouds hold the sun 

yellow bush

petals blown, suspended

bees hum 

Beautiful spring day

Today was one of those days that makes you smile even though all you're doing is errands and various chores. The sun played hide-and-seek all day, using Vanilla Sky clouds to disappear behind then ease on out to caress its warmth against your skin. Cool breezes became crisp and sharp with the smell of rain climbing its way over the Cascades. A little patter of rain - just enough to sweeten the fragrance of the grass and manzanita - then gone with a whisper. The silk-blue sky shared equal space with cumulus clouds and the robins were doing what they're most famous for - bob-bob-bobbing along. We saw our first two Bend quail today. We had many dozens of quail in our yard in Nevada but this was the first time we'd spotted them here. They're a little slimmer here, we noticed. The robins chased them out of the back yard and quickly got busy again with their very well-known bobbing. David and I took our now-customary walk after dinner under a passing "sun-rain" - syncopated, hesitant droplets too shy to be called a shower. Now, the quiet of evening with its subtle shift of colors, slowly washing into grays. Yep. It was a lovely day.

Still getting settled into our new home

It takes time to re-establish yourself in a new community. My husband, David, and I moved to Bend, Oregon, last month and we're still getting "settled." We've lived in a lot of places from California to Alaska to Washington to Minnesota to Hawaii to Nevada and, now, here in Oregon. We love the trees, the Cascades, the Deschutes and other rivers and creeks all so close. And the town of Bend is a wonderful blend of hep with friendly - a lot of art support is very apparent. Everywhere you go, you'll see very creative sculpture - on street corners, in the middle of the roundabouts, etc.

Deer regularly visit our back yard and enjoy the fresh spring grass. One usually stands sentry while the rest casually dine. They're easygoing about our presence and don't mind us watching them from the back deck. That's a joy we haven't had in many a year. Swallows hang out in the trees out back, so we get to watch their cream and gray flits from tree to tree throughout the day.

Mornings are especially nice. David and I have been waking up earlier than what became usual in Nevada. We feel excited about getting into the new day. "What will it bring?" "Let's get started and find out."

But, now that we've made the plunge to move here, we're trying to get a true feel for the waters and how to swim them. We've learned that every community is different. A lot of those differences are subtle but significant and only time and getting know the locals can reveal how to navigate the new land.

So, I'm writing now to clarify thought on our progress. More to myself, I think, than anything else. I've decided to treat this blog a little more like a diary of sorts. Just talk about my experiences, feelings, thoughts and so on. Don't know if anyone is reading but this is, at the very least, a chance to get my thoughts out. We'll see how it all progresses. The saga of changes. Life. Until next time...

Listen. Listen.

This short piece is so right on about why we write, why we must write:

http://querytracker.blogspot.com/2010/12/listen-listen.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed:+QueryTracker+(QueryTracker.net)

'The Art of Full Indiscipline'

'The Art of Full Indiscipline'

This article I've linked to, in its entirety, is very inspiring. Of course, Dr. Mukherjee's underlying creative expression is researching cancer and what might cause it and, therefore, keep it at bay. But still, how he wrote his book, using cancer as a kind of character in his weave of stories, is very inspiring as well. I found his "art of full indiscipline" quite illuminating as a way to write.

Not everyone is able to set aside specific hours per day to write (or pursue any other creative endeavor, for that matter) but can commit to focusing some time toward that creative pursuit every day, no matter how seemingly small that time is. I'm a firm believer in this as a basic philosophy: the way we get to the top of the mountain? Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. And never stop. Until you're at the top of the mountain. Enjoying the view. Then you can scope out a higher mountain. If you want.

Susan M. Botich

Susan M. Botich

Reference my link to elance.com 
http://www.elance.com/s/edit/susanmbotich/resume/